Page 57 of Why Do Earls Fall in Love?
Harriett smiled and nodded to the other ladies, then pulled Charlotte away a few steps. “I heard you were invited to Lady Carston’s musicale this evening.”
“Yes.”
“Do you mean to go?”
“Yes. Will you be attending?”
“I will.”
Charlotte waited.
“I just . . . I thought it prudent that we speak first, privately. Before we see each other socially, I mean.”
“Was there something you wanted to say, Harriett?”
“No. Yes. I just . . . I thought it would be best . . .” She sighed in exasperation. “You see? This is why! I knew you would make things difficult!”
“And that’s why you wanted to speak to me privately? Because you don’t wantmeto make things difficult foryou?”
Her cousin lifted a shoulder. She didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed.
Charlotte huffed out a breath and turned to go.
Harriett grabbed her arm to stop her.
She pulled away and rounded on her cousin. “I don’t know whether it is hubris, stupidity or just sheer, unmitigated gall that makes you think you can ask such a thing of me. I suspect it’s an unfortunate mix of all three.”
“Oooh!” Harriett snarled and now, at last, she let loose her true emotions. “I don’t care what my father says,” she sneered. “I don’t care what you think you know. Because I have information of my own. Say a word against me and I’ll add my own bit of grist to the rumor mill. Do you truly wish your marriage to be the object of gossip again? So soon?”
“Your bluff is even worse than your pitiful attempts at civility.”
“Oh, it’s no bluff. I don’t know who that girl is, hanging and gazing pitifully at your home, but I’ve got a good look at her, more than once. All it will take is a mention of her. A good description, a few questions and whispers, and suddenly everyone will be speculating about which of your husband’s past indiscretions is taking his marriage badly.”
Charlotte lifted her chin. “Go to the devil, Harriett.”
She went back to her friends and dismissed her cousin’s poor manners and even managed to enjoy herself a bit while they shopped for the rest of the morning. But when Julia’s carriage dropped her off, she waved her friends on, then paused on the step outside the door.
There she was. Harriett hadn’t been inventing tales. A dark-haired girl with pale skin and a curious, calculating gleam in her eye stared back at her. She sat on a bench in the park in the middle of the square, turned sideways at the end so that she could easily watch the house—and meet Charlotte’s gaze.
Charlotte held it for a long moment before she turned and went in, contemplating this new complication. As she entered, she caught a glimpse of the hall boy slinking away from the parlor window.
“Hold a moment,” she called. The boy had been avoiding her. “What is your name again?”
“E—” He paused, his shoulders hunched and his hands clasped. “Eli. Ma’am.”
“Good morning, Eli. I’ve been wanting to ask you . . .”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“How long have you been employed here?”
The boy shifted his stance. “Oh, just a few weeks, my lady.”
“And where were you before that?”
“I were in another nobleman’s house before, ma’am.” His fingers moved rhythmically against the back of his other hand. “I weren’t happy there.”
Her heart softened. “And are you happy here, Eli?”
The boy looked quickly up into her face and back down again. “I don’t know yet, my lady.”
“An honest answer.” She held out her parcel of fabric. “Please take this up to the seamstresses. And Eli, if I can help you make up your mind about this house, please let me know.”
Another quick glance as he took the fabric and he nodded. “I will. Thank ye, ma’am.”
Charlotte watched him go and then she glanced out to where the girl still waited in the square.
There were so many dilemmas piling up, she could scarcely see over them.
